Falling Stars and Bright Sunlight
by Ramzes
Summary: At Harrenhall, Ashara Dayne's life was changed forever. But would it be forever ruined, especially with the events that are still to come? A (hopefully) short AU devoted to our favourite Dornish femme fatale.
1. Homecoming

**Falling Stars and Bright Sunlight**

_Homecoming_

The wheelhouse was rolling slowly along the white road. The window was ajar, letting the fresh cold air in. A path of sunlight danced its way between the curtains. _The mountain breathes_, Ashara Dayne thought, feeling that she was breathing, too – for first time in months, if not years.

"My lady," her maid, Elysa, said. "Maybe we should slow down…"

Ashara tilted her head and her magnificent dark hair fell over one shoulder. "Slow down?" she echoed. "Hurry up!" she called out to the coachman. "If we keep going, we can reach Starfall before sunset."

"And before the storm that is coming finds us," Elysa murmured.

Even as she was talking, the first droplets started falling.

How they made it through the mountain storm, Ashara could not say. The sun disappeared, swallowed by a curtain of pitch-dark night amidst the bright day. Breaking branches, overflowing streams, wind so savage that it shook the wheelhouse like a tin box… For a while, she wondered whether they should seek refuge under a tree and wait it out. The only thing that stopped her was her fear that a lightning would strike their tree, of all trees, or the wind would break a thick branch right over their heads. It was so dark that the horses found their way only by instinct.

When the lights appeared, for a moment she felt as if her life was starting anew, as if the seven heavens had opened up for her. _Salvation, salvation._ And then, reality crashed over her like the thunderbolts searing the sky: _there was no salvation._ None. The Ashara Dayne who had just arrived here was still the same Ashara Dayne who had left King's Landing a week ago. Her shame was still with her, growing up within her. Arthur and Elia were still at King's Landing and the only difference was that she couldn't now see the danger looming over them – but it was there. She didn't even know whether Arel would accept her in their ancestral home. She couldn't blame him if he didn't. She had been supposed to make a magnificent match, to use her charms and knowledge to advance the family. Instead, she had squandered it all away for no better reason than a single night with a Northman. That was just as true here as it was there.

"My lady," the girl said, haltingly. "My lady, are you cold?"

Ashara silently took the fur-lined cloak from her hands and clasped it with the two silver brooches.

The lights were coming nearer, tantalizingly warm and welcoming. Starfall took shape in front of her, its towers startlingly white against the darkness of the night. Ashara poked her head through the window and cursed when the wind blew the torrential rain against her face and hair. Instinctively, she slammed the window closed.

The wheelhouse kept lumbering and Ashara fought to keep her queasiness away. Eyes closed, hands pressed to her mouth, she could only count her breaths and wonder what kind of welcome she would find when they arrived. After all, Arel wouldn't send her away in a night like that… right?

And then, shouts. The wheelhouse stopped. A heavy clanking of chains followed and the wheelhouse lumbered forward again, so suddenly that Ashara was thrown against the opposite bench. Soon afterwards, the horses whinnied and stopped again. They were now in the bailey of Starfall.

The coachman helped Ashara climb down, the freezing rain still beating against her face. Elysa followed. Ashara crossed the bailey, shaking, and stopped before a huge oak door that remained stubbornly closed. No stars lit the blackness.

Was that it, Ashara asked herself silently. For a moment of madness, she imagined how she'd be forced to spend the night here, how they would find her in the bailey frozen to death in the morning… maybe with her still unformed child next to her, forced out of her by the cold.

A crack made her look up. The door opened and from the inside, a burst of light made her eyes water. Arel stood at the door and removed himself as soon as he saw her. "Come in," he said. "You must be tired."

She stepped over the threshold and her head swam all of a sudden. He caught her immediately and drew her close. For a moment, she saw his face very close to her. They shared the same fair skin, the same violet eyes and dark hair. Now, his finely chiseled features were marred by concern. She tried to smile. "I am fine," she managed and tried not to faint with weariness, fear, and relief. "I am home."

* * *

"He just let me in," Ashara said as she was putting on the nightgown Shanai had warmed on the fire for her. "He was all, _come on, are you tired, are you hungry?_"

Her goodsister gave her a look of amazement. "Well, what were you expecting? That he's throw you out into the storm?"

Ashara laughed nervously. "The thought was not far from my mind!"

She snuggled up in bed and happily realized that Shanai had placed a few hot stones between the sheets. It felt so nice to wiggle her toes in the blissful warmth. Then, she looked at her goodsister, her face serious. "You know what happened to me, don't you, Shanai?"

The older woman looked aside; with a pang in her heart, Ashara realized how aged and worn out she looked. She was as beautiful as ever, her eyes soft, doe-brown, her hair a vivid auburn; but there was now a constant exhausted edge to her features. She had always been slender but now she looked downright gaunt. "I do."

She took a seat in a barrel chair and gave Ashara a long considering look. "Who is the father?" she asked. "Someone you have to marry?"

Ashara shook her head, grateful beyond words that she didn't have to explain the worst of the situation. "He's from the North," she said. "And he has a match arranged already."

Shanai nodded, clearly unsurprised, and poured Ashara a small goblet of Dornish red before leaving a plate of blood oranges on the bed next to her. Ashara drank thirstily.

"What are you going to do?" Shanai finally asked.

In the faint candlelight, Ashara's eyes glinted dark, like those of a cornered animal. The violet was completely lost now. "I don't know," she admitted. "I tried to get rid of it. I drank the moon tea. I had a special concoction brewed for me. All it gave me was a week of headache. I cannot force it out."

Again, her goodsister looked aside. Ashara could read her thoughts: why were the Seven so cruel? Why would they give a child to Ashara who didn't want it and in truth, hadn't created it with love but lust, and deprive of that Shanai herself?

"I'll have Maester Tiboult examine you in the morning," Lady Dayne finally said. "For now, all you need is rest. I expect that Allyria will sneak in to have a look at you sometime. If she starts tiring you out, just tell her so and that she should leave. Be stern. She won't listen otherwise."

Unexpectedly to herself, Ashara smiled. Bothersome. Unruly. Unwilling to listen. They had said the same things about her, once. She had missed on so much of Allyria's life.

"I will," she said and her goodsister rose to leave. "Shanai?"

The other woman turned at the door. "Yes?"

"Thank you. For everything."

Shanai smiled. "You're welcome."

Shanai's steps had not quite faded away when Ashara went to sleep, a slight smile on her lips. Nothing was lost. For now, she was safe. She was home.


	2. Faint Outlines of a Future

_Thank you, VVSINGOFTHECROSS, for reviewing._

**Falling Stars and Bright Sunlight**

_Faint Outlines of a Future_

_Two days later…_

Ashara didn't know what woke her up. Was it the bright sunlight, or the unobtrusive movements of the handmaiden going about her work in the bedchamber? Or… was it simply the fact that she was now rested and fine?

"Good morning," she said and yawned. "I feel so rested. I hadn't slept for a whole night for months."

The girl came near and smiled. She was a new one, for Ashara didn't know her. "You slept for two nights and a day," she said. "My lord ordered that we should not wake you up."

Ashara's first thought was the horrifying possibility that she might be now lying in her own filth. She desperately checked and composed once she saw the sheets were white and sweet-smelling. Now, she vaguely remembered that she had gotten up a few times to go to the privy. She snuggled back and let the girl do her job. _Two nights and a day_, she thought and smiled. No wonder she felt like she had slept under all the fluff in the world.

"Are you better now?"

Ashara heard the voice like a distant background, recognized it and sighed without opening her eyes. "I am sleeping, Arel. Go away."

"You were daydreaming," he corrected. "I was told you had woken up and I knew that you could spend a week in your dreams."

That was the problem with having siblings close in age. Very few people would believe that the vibrant, glorious Ashara Dayne _could_ daydream. She was certainly not admitting it to anyone.

"I was sleeping," she insisted. "Go away."

"Very well," he agreed amiably. "Just wait for a moment, I have to take the lemon tarts with me…"

"Lemon tarts." Ashara sniffed around and opened an eye. Her brother held one to her mouth and she bit at it greedily. Only after the first bite did she realize how hungry she was. She opened both eyes to the sight of Arel sitting in a chair near her bed. At the coffer near the bed she spotted a platter of blood oranges, lemon tarts, and gingerbread – all of them her favourites. Her eyes swam and Arel felt uncomfortable.

"You aren't going to cry, are you?" he said. "And don't give me this line about tears of joy because of homecoming and all because it's the same to me. They are all wet and make me feel bad. No tears, yes?"

Ashara sniffed. "No tears," she promised. Was it her condition that made her so weepy?

Arel nodded and touched her hand. "Eat something, get dressed, and then come to me. I'd rather discuss the matter now, so our future – or at least the rest of your stay here – is as peaceful as possible."

She gave him a teary smile and wondered why she had ever considered the possibility that he'd throw her out.

A little later, sated, freshly bathed and clad in informal Dornish robes, she found Arel in the solar and saw with relief that Shanai was not nearby. As much as she liked her goodsister, she'd rather discuss her options with Arel alone. And Shanai would not want to hear about Ashara's babe anyway. It would serve no purpose at all, just hurt her unnecessarily.

"I didn't get many details from your letter," Arel said as soon as she took a seat against him. "But then, you couldn't exactly write them down, eh?" He paused. "Shanai told me you have no plans to marry the father."

She nodded. "He won't have me if I wanted to," she said. "And I don't want to. I cannot live in the North, alone, away from everything and everyone I love."

He didn't ask anything. The bright sunlight cast his face in pale gold and made his violet eyes gleam like interchanging purple and indigo. There was no reproach in his expression, just a patient question. "You ought not tell me anything," he finally said. "It won't change a thing. I'd like to understand, though."

"It was the excitement of the tourney." Ashara looked down at her hands folded in her lap. "It was the wine… after half a goblet of Dornish red, I thought that "clothes down" was a marvelous game, remember?"

Arel sighed because he did remember. Even as a child, a mouthful of wine had been enough to make Ashara forget about any limitations. At the same time, he wanted to throw Arthur against the wall. His brother was just as aware as him that their sister was not to be trusted when wine hit her in the head, yet he had let _this_ happen. Of course, Arthur was not really the one to blame either… He might have been at Harrenhall but he had been there charged with a specific task that did not leave much time to keep Ashara on a short leash.

"I don't suppose you'd want a husband?" If she did, she would have already told him.

Ashara shook her head vigorously. She did not want him to buy a father for his babe – which could be arranged. She didn't want the babe either. The thought of giving birth to it sent chills to the very core of her being. She did not want such a responsibility, such a bond.

"I tried to get rid of it," she said in a small voice. "By many means. It never worked out."

The taste of the moon tea and all the vile concoctions she had taken. All her efforts to push and lift heavy furniture. All the hours of riding. Nothing.

"Did you consult a maester?" Arel asked.

Her mouth twisted. "If I only could! The Grand Maester is in Tywin Lannister's pocket. I have no trust in any of the maesters in the Red Keep. There are too many who will be happy to get to the Princess through me."

Arel hadn't expected another answer. Being a royal's favourite had some disadvantages – but there were some for the royal, too. Because of their closeness, every blow against Ashara could be turned into a blow against Elia, to destroy both of them… as well as any trace of Dornish influence at court.

"I'll have maester Thibault have a look at you," he said. "But I want you to consult a few other maesters, too. Keeping the child despite your attempts to force it out , it isn't normal… If they say it's safe for you to try again, by all means do it. But only if they say so. I am not risking your life just to avoid some juicy gossip."

Once again, Ashara felt terribly guilty for assuming that he might do anything but open the door to her.

"I'd rather take you to Sunspear than inviting them here… it'll be more discreet this way," Arel went. "If you aren't up to travelling, though…"

She smiled wryly and gripped the slender silver bracelet she rarely took off. "Never fear. I'm afraid I'll turn out to be so famously fertile that it won't matter whether I'm riding off in a storm or lying to prevent a miscarriage…"

The words had barely left her lips when she realized what she had just said. Her blood curdled, her breath was cut short.

Arel looked down and then looked at her. His voice was level and soothing. "Ashara. No harm done."

"I am sorry," she said in a tiny voice. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Why?" he replied, giving her a steady look. "It's the truth, no matter how bitter it might be to me. Some women are meant to be famously fertile. And other will always suffer miscarriages. Shanai is one of them." He paused. "I'd rather not have you speak so to her, though."

She nodded, feeling like a stupid little girl.

For a while, they were silent. Ashara poured a goblet of water from the flagon and looked at her brother who nodded that he also wanted one.

"If it turns out that it isn't possible for you to expel this child safely," Arel finally said, "maybe we could send him or her to the Water Gardens. It's full of children there anyway. One more will make no difference. There's no need to announce who the mother is."

And she'd be safe to keep living her own life, taking a husband who would not be bought off to hide her shame. Ashara felt light-headed with relief and then immediately felt guilty for feeling this way. But no matter how hard she tried, she could never see the child she carried. To her, it was like the babe didn't exist at all. What an irony! She might turn out to be highly fertile indeed while she lacked even the most basic maternal feelings.

Once again, she rose and went to the door that led to the terrace, opening it with experienced ease. Beneath, the three levels of Starfall sported their pale stone, green wards, and pleasure gardens. On her left, the sea glittered like a silk of gold trimmed with fine white lace. Ashara breathed its salty scent, the one she and Elia had desperately tried to catch for their perfumes but it had always eluded them. She wondered why she had ever wanted to leave. Why Arthur had.

Arel came behind her and she leaned her head against his shoulder. "I wanted to conquer the world," she said, as if she was answering her own question from a moment ago. "Conquer the world with beauty." She laughed self-deprecatingly. "Sounds silly, doesn't it?"

His hand was warm against the small of her back. "No, Ashara," he said. "Not silly at all."

She leaned closer. "It is," she said. "Because I achieved it, for a while. I conquered King's Landing, and yet it wasn't enough. Why does a part of me always longs for something else, Arel? Just one more thing, and I could never touch it. Even now, when I've lost it all, I still don't know what it is."

"You haven't lost it all," Arel said softly but forcefully. "You have time. This unfortunate event won't ruin your life. I won't let it."

She believed him. She didn't know how he would do it but do it he would. She squeezed his fingers shortly in gratitude. "When can we leave for Sunspear?" she asked.

"Soon," he said. "You must send a reply to Lady Larra, though. Word has come to her of your arrival and she invites you to go to visit."

"Larra." Ashara smiled. As a child, she had always worshipped the slightly older girl. The thought of finding her old friends again was so very appealing. "I'd love to. I've always had great time at Blackmont. And the gods know that being a day or two late won't change things so much."

She was already making plans for a more distant future, vaguely realizing that it was partly out of making herself believe that she'd have one – but she didn't care. "And she can visit us after our return from Sunspear…"

"She can't," he said. Something in his voice warned Ashara against asking further questions.

Shanai, though, enlightened her as Ashara relayed her plans for near and not so near future. She was slightly embarrassed to do that, acutely aware that she was clearing the road for keeping her reputation intact for the sake of her future marriage and children – those who would inherit Starfall since Shanai would never bear a living child.

"So, you're going to Blackmont," Shanai said and Ashara gave her a look of surprise since she had expected that her goodsister would accompany them. Arel had already confirmed that he'd escort her there.

"Well, I don't suppose making one bedchamber ready would be so much bother," Shanai went on. Her lovely face had darkened.

Ashara didn't know what to say. She had no idea what all that was about.

"She has an affair with Arel, you see," Shanai said dryly. "Oh they are quite discreet but they jump at the chance to meet and indulge in their bedsport. I suppose it will last until she's safely wed again. At least she waited for a month or two after the old man died. I wonder how much will Arel wait should I die… a week, maybe. Ten days, at most."

Ashara shuddered. "Don't talk nonsense," she snapped, realizing once again that another one of her girlish illusions, that of great everlasting love, had just been shattered.


	3. At the Water Gardens

_Thanks to both my reviewers for keeping me willing to write._

**Falling Stars and Bright Sunlight**

_At the Water Gardens_

_A week later…_

As soon as the captain announced that they had landed safely, Allyria ran for the gangplank and trotted down it, headed for the realm of marble and laughter nearby. Larra followed with only slightly less restraint. At the time Ashara and Arel reached the first gate, Allyria and Larra were already at the second one and when they reached the second, Allyria had already stripped her clothes and was now wading in the biggest pool where the thirty or so children greeted her with ear-splitting squeals. She almost bumped into a boy who was a little younger than her seven years and shooting out of the pool. He kept running without breaking pace and bumped into Larra, shouting, "Mama!"

Larra leaned down and grasped him to swing him around. Then, she held him tightly. "Well, Perros, I came to see you!"

"Did you see me?" he squeaked. "Did you? Elin and I, we beat everyone!"

"You'll show me soon enough," she said, smiling.

An older girl emerged from the water, too, and approached Larra but more slowly than Perros. Amused, Ashara thought that Jynessa Blackmont was in the age where girls were caught between wanting to be children and ladies at the same time.

A few moments later, Ashara had to hide her smile because there was something funny and endearing at the same time to have two children execute a perfect bow and curtsy to her while entirely naked.

"That's a splendid bracelet," the girl said, eyeing the silver gleaming on Ashara's hand.

Ashara looked down at it herself. The silver threads wove together in a fragile, yet solid river. The fire agates spread their flames from between them and caught the sunlight in a way that made the amethysts sparkle like falling stars. "It is very special," she said. "It was a gift from the Queen."

Jynessa's eyes went wide. Ashara grinned. "I'll tell you more about it later," she promised.

The chief steward, Oryn Seashell, came to them, bowing. "We are honoured to offer you our hospitality, my lord," he said. "And it's a joy to have you back here, my lady," he added, with a small wink, to Ashara. She winked back. This man had given her sweets when she had been no older than Jynessa and Perros and splashing in those pools. Once, she had tried to drink one of the fountains from top to bottom, entirely convinced that she could dry the jet.

"Your rooms are ready," he announced to the newcomers and led Arel and Ashara to an outer staircase. Larra stayed with her children. As she was walking the wooden-paneled hallway, Ashara thought it felt strange to be quartered at the official part, the one for adults – and the members of House Martell. Elia had had her own quarters here, of course, but she had often escaped to spend the night in one of the shared bedrooms with the other children, laughter and hushed whispers lulling them to sleep. Shared bedrooms were such a joy…

"Here we are," Oryn said and opened a door. "Two chambers with partitions for your servants, a solar, and a bathchamber. I hope you'll be comfortable here."

"I am sure we'll be," Arel said.

The steward showed them in and looked at Ashara. "Lord Alric desires the pleasure of your company, my lady. When you're ready…"

Ashara promised that she'd visit Prince Doran's father as soon as she changed her attire and Oryn closed the door discreetly behind him.

Ashara went to the open door of the terrace and stared at the garden beyond. She could hardly wait for their servants to catch up – she desperately needed a bath or rather, the chance to take her gown off. Her breasts had started becoming fuller and tender – yet another reminder of her condition.

"I don't want to proceed to Sunspear," she murmured. "I want to stay here."

Arel laughed softly. "You aren't the only one," he said. "I have the same thoughts each time I visit. And I am quite sure Larra would rather stay here with her children than go to Sunspear to do husband-hunting."

He said it so lightly that Ashara turned to look back at him, closing the door behind. There was no distress on his face, nothing indicating that he minded in the least. She had been watching him and Lady Blackmont carefully for days but they had given no indication that Shanai's accusation had any ground. "And you don't mind?" she asked.

He gave her a look of surprise. "Why should I?"

She hesitated. "I've heard that you're having an affair with her. Isn't it true?"

For a moment, there was a flash of anger in his eyes that froze her on the spot. It was a hard thing to get Arel angry – or rather, it was near impossible for one to see that they had. But now his violet eyes tore her apart the way she was often told her own did others. "That is none of your business."

"But I'd like to know. Shanai told me that wherever you have a chance to, you share one bedroom."

The fire intensified and then died out. "And one bed," Arel elaborated. "Are you satisfied now? Really, that's none of your business. It's mine alone, not even Shanai's… if she has had the insolence to complain about it…"

Ashara drew back, horrified by his cruelty, by his lack of remorse and consideration. That was not like him at all – Arel who had taken care of her and Arthur in the nightmare their life had become after their father's accident, when their mother had let her lover almost ruin Starfall. That was not Arel who had loved Shanai.

"Arel, do you hear yourself?" she asked in a faint whisper. "What's happened to you? I feel like I don't know you any more."

"Stop it." Now his voice was even. He had himself under control once again. "You're forgetting yourself. Instead of digging between _my_ sheets, pay attention to _your_ _own_ situation. Shanai is a woman grown who has no trouble making her demands clear to me, I assure you. Now, it's you we have to think about. I want you to see Maester Caleotte as soon as possible and then the other maesters. Unfortunately, there's no shortage of those in the Water Gardens right now."

Ashara's resentment reached its peak at the thought of how different things were for men and women even here, in Dorne. Before she could tell him what she thought about him, though, a knock at the door turned her attention elsewhere. "Come in," she said and the arrival of their servants with the travel coffers put an end to this unpleasant conversation. By an unspoken agreement, they both knew that they would not start talking about it again.

* * *

_An hour later…_

"He'll look the same to you, he'll be happy to see you, and he'll start asking questions and hold the conversation together without any difficulty at all. Then, all of a sudden, he'll pale and look like he's fallen asleep. At this point, you have to call for the maesters, unless there is someone else around to do it for you. I don't know whether he'll want to talk to you alone."

Lady Alynna Gargalen was giving Ashara fast instructions as she accompanied her to her uncle's solar.

Ashara gave her a look of surprise. Alynna shook her head. "No, it isn't that he might want to keep your conversation a secret. It's just that sometimes he feels like he's suffocating and he doesn't want too many people in the room. I haven't seen him this morning and his condition constantly changes overnight."

Ashara could hear and understand the words, yet in no way could she link their meaning to the strong vigorous man Princess Arianne's consort had been when she had left Dorne only a few years ago. She had become so entrenched in survival, court machinations, flirting, and conspiring that the news of her homeland had not looked real, especially when they said something she truly did not want to hear.

"And… be careful with what you say to him," Alynna went on.

Surprised, Ashara stopped walking and looked at her. Alynna avoided her eye and stared through the nearest window in the gallery to the pools where the children were. Ashara briefly wondered whether Alynna's own children were among them. They probably were.

"I am not suggesting that you lie to him," Alynna elaborated hurriedly. "But his ailment is so advanced that it'll be cruel of us to tell him anything but what he needs to hear to die in peace."

"I see," Ashara said and there was a lump in her throat. She suddenly remembered her own father, his debilitating illness and how they had all pretended that everything was fine since he couldn't find out and he couldn't really help them. So they had smiled and lied through their teeth as their smallfolk was harasses, their belongings denied to them, and Starfall become a place where rats roamed freely.

"Talk to him about Rhaenys," Alynna went on. "Talk about Arthur and Prince Lewyn, and what good you can say about Elia's life. Don't talk about Harrenhall, for one."

_They haven't told him_, Ashara realized and shivered at the thought of what a solitary life he must be leading now if such a lie could hold.

"I won't," she promised and made a mental list of the things she could not talk about: Aerys' madness, their own scheming to replace him with Rhaegar, Elia's enemies at court, the insinuations thrown her way, the tension between Rhaegar and her after Harrenhall… There were so few things she _could_ talk about.

When they reached the solar, Alynna gave the younger woman a reassuring look. "I might have scared you worse than I intended," she said. "Don't be afraid, he's still who he was."

But he didn't look like it. Once, he had been a copy of his son Oberyn, just older, vigorous and with a bottomless supply of energy; now, he looked washed-out, crushed by fatigue and twice the age he had been at the day of their leaving. His eyes were the same, though, black and keen. Ashara didn't know how she could lie to him and make him believe her. She wondered how Alynna and the others could have been doing it for months.

He didn't rise to greet her – he clearly didn't have the strength. Near him, his nephew Errol Gargalen, Alynna's husband, rose and smiled at her.

Ashara smiled back, curtsied to the late Princess' consort and started preparing for the lies she was about to say. She started with a truth, though: when asked to tell them about her life at King's Landing, she immediately said, "The Princess is with child again."

She looked at the sheer joy on Alric and Alynna's faces and wondered why Errol looked pale and scared all of a sudden.

* * *

_Late in the night…_

All day long, the Water Gardens were a swirl of laughter and mischief punctuated by occasional quarrels and the roar of the sea; at night, it looked like a piece of the seventh sky, the marbles absorbing the colours of pools and sky, so walking through them felt like gliding on water, scented with the deep aroma of blood oranges.

Ashara rose from the bench near one of the smaller pools and started putting her slippers back on. Her mind was now calmer, although the humiliation was seared so deeply in her brain that she doubted it would ever go away. This had been worse than the midwives she had consulted in secret in King's Landing. Their chuckles and knowing eyes had been bad enough and one of them had actually licked her lips at grabbing Ashara's breasts, presumably to check whether they were tender enough to indicate pregnancy. It had been revolting. But the respect the maesters at the Water Gardens had shown her today had turned out to be far worse. They had not been judgmental, disapproving, or aloof. But they were her own people. Two of the three had known her since she had played here as a child and she had felt mortified at exposing her secret to their professional eye.

But they had given her the grass. She did not know what it was, had not wanted to ask. But she had to drink it as soon as she was back to Starfall, so she could recuperate in the safety of her own chambers. The effect was supposed to be almost immediate – and extremely violent. There was even a chance of death – but the chance had been present in all the things she had done to get rid of this pregnancy before. The grass lay hidden at the bottom of one of her coffers and Ashara would use it in a week, at most.

The echo of steps made her turn her head, her heart pounding. A man strode near, breaking the soft peace of the late night. _No one should be striding like this in the seventh sky_, Ashara thought and rose, slippers finally in place.

Bathed by the moonlight, he looked as if he were wearing a helmet but in fact, it was only his own hair, silver and lustrous, cut short. Ashara swallowed, trying to overcome her fear. Now she realized that roaming around alone, so late at night had not been a good idea.

He stopped a few steps away from her and bowed with flourish. "Dear cousin," he said. "I heard that you were here but I have to admit I didn't believe them. Last thing I knew, you were busy breaking hearts at King's Landing."

Ashara shrugged, hoping that he couldn't hear the thumping of her heart. "People come back, Ser Geralt."

"Indeed they do."

He looked her up and down. Ashara felt the ridiculous urge to shift her feet and hide her wet slippers. He saw them and grinned. "Sitting with your feet dangling in the water, huh? People don't change this much."

"That's quite right," she agreed. Her feelings about him had not changed in the least. She had never liked him and after his family of High Hermitage had tried to establish power over Starfall using Arel's youth and inexperience, she liked him even less. She eyed him, trying to see whether she could squeeze between him and the tree on his left and return to her chamber.

He came nearer. "You are even more beautiful than I remember," he whispered. "Maybe it's time to unite our Houses once again. You'll need a husband to help you rule Starfall."

She stepped back. "Starfall has a lord and that's my brother," she said, trying to sound as cold and imperious as she knew how.

He chuckled. "As much as we all love him, the Seven did not make him eternal to the specific purpose of ruling Starfall forever. And everyone in Dorne knows that Lady Shanai doesn't care whose bed it is that her husband is warming, as long as it isn't hers. Starfall will be yours…"

"You're drunk," Ashara said, disgusted, but she knew he wasn't. He was sober and he knew what he was talking about. She made a step to go past him but he barred her way. "Let me go."

"Not before we talk."

"Go away," she spat, all pretensions of being cold and unafraid scattered in the wind. "Let me go right at this moment!"

Instead, he only stepped so near that all that divided their mouths was a puff of air.

Ashara tried to push past him but he caught her by the waist. _What am I going to do_, she thought frantically. _Call for help? But I'll disgrace myself and with my state now…_

"Let her go."

The voice was not even a loud one – it was even but carrying a deadly level of menace and self-confidence. Geralt hesitated but clearly decided that picking up a fight with a man was harder than forcing himself on a woman, so he merely shrugged indifferently and moved himself, so Ashara could go past him.

She was very careful not to lean on the man's arm as he walked her on the outer staircase.

Neither of them said a word as he saw her off to her chambers. It was in moments like this when Ashara could see why Arel had chosen Errol Gargalen for his best friend. Why Alynna had refused a crown for him.

"Don't tell Arel," she spoke in a low voice. She didn't need more trouble brewing right now. And Arel would never let Geralt get away with this.

He nodded. "I won't," he promised and waited until she closed the door of the bedchamber safely behind her.

* * *

In the bedchamber three doors away from Ashara's, Larra Blackmont lay immobile while Arel was trying to relieve one of her terrible headaches. His fingers worked with the confidence that he had assumed in their early youth when they had first taken notice of each other. They had both been surprised at how fast he had regained his skill when years later they had rekindled their affair. Sometimes, Larra played with the thought of suggesting him to become a master at Blackmont, responsible for a single task – disposing of her headaches.

"I think you're ready," Arel said.

For the last few minutes, Larra had indeed been feeling great relief. She had simply enjoyed the feeling of his fingers over her scalp. She now twisted slightly to look him in the eye. "How can you tell?"

"I just can," he replied.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I like how you pretend that you're still in pain, so I would keep petting you. Why should I stop something that I like?"

Tears sprang to her eyes. It was true, she had always liked being petted. _You aren't a cat_, her father had thundered frequently when she was a child. _You are the heir of Blackmont and by the Seven, you'll behave as such!_ She had tried. Arel had found out her shameful little secret about a week after they had first shared a bed.

Arel drew back and gave her an assessing look. "A bath early in the morning, a good breakfast and a little perfume," he gave his assessment. "And you'll be ready to take Sunspear by storm."

She didn't want to take anything by storm. She just wanted a husband she could share her responsibilities with, someone who would not seek to usurp her position, someone who would not look at her children askance… Oh, and who would be young enough to take her to bed without being coaxed into it. In short – a mix of the Warrior, the Father, and who knew what else!

"I only want a safe harbour," she said. She had not found it in any of the men who had started streaming to Blackmont from the moment her husband died.

Arel sighed and stroked her arm. "Don't give up, Larra! Keep taking care of the children, ruling Blackmont, and helping charities. Right now, no one can demand more of you, not even the Prince. Take care of yourself. And keep faith. All will be well, at the end. This time, the choice will be yours and I believe you'll choose wisely."

_Keep faith._ The words that had kept them going, the spell that had brought them to the other end of their ordeals when they had been almost children. It didn't seem to be working for him any more. It had certainly stopped working for her. But she wanted to believe it, wanted to believe in a better life, better fate.

"Come on," she said. "Let's go to sleep."

He rose and started undressing. She brought a goblet of water at his side of the bed, for he often woke up at night parched with thirst. A moment later, she snuggled up against him and he draped an arm around her. They had no qualms of being caught, for they could both wake up when they wanted to. Before dawn, he would slip into his own bedchamber unnoticed. It would be hard to go back to sleep, for both of them, but it was worth it. They were both so tired of cold beds and lonely nights.


End file.
